I'll Never Tell
by cylobaby27
Summary: The dancing demon has come to London! The newly engaged John and Sherlock wake up to find themselves singing about their concerns with their upcoming nuptials.


_**The image of Sherlock saying, "Look, John, I'm dancing crazy!" popped into my head one day, and this is the result. **_

_**This fic is best enjoyed when listening to the original "Once More With Feeling" version of "I'll Never Tell" and "Coda."**_

_**I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Sherlock. **_

_**~Enjoy~**_

John awoke the sounds of birds chirping outside the window and sunlight steaming gently through the curtains. He stretched, yawning widely, and then looked fondly at the tousled black hair peeking from under the covers on the other side of the bed.

Without bothering to question the sudden background music, he sang, "_This is the man that I plan to entangle, isn't he fine? My claim to fame was to maim and to medic- Healing was mine. But I'm out of the biz. The name I have I'll hyphen with his. The only trouble is... I'll never tell_."

Beside him, Sherlock sat up in bed, wide-awake despite having actually slept for only an hour. "John, why are you-? _He is the one, he's such wonderful fun, such passion and grace. Warm in the night when I'm right in his tight- embrace, tight embrace! I'll never let him go. The love we've known can only grow. There's just one thing that- No. I'll never tell_."

They avoided each other's gazes. "_Because there's nothing to tell_."

They both climbed out of bed to prepare for the day. Sherlock pulled on his blue silk dressing robe while John heard downstairs shirtless, easily side-stepping the experiments that lined the flat.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed at the continued background music, and followed after his fiancé. "John, something strange is happening. Moriarty must have-"

As John walked into the kitchen, he sang, "_He snores_."

Sherlock entered behind him. "_He wheezes_," he complained, heading towards the kitchen table.

"_Say 'housework,' and he freezes_!"

"_He eats jam and tea, though eating's not fun_."

"_I talk, he breezes. He doesn't know what please is!_"

"_His penis got diseases from the girls he's done!_"

Together, they sang, "_The vibe gets kind of scary._"

John frowned. "_Like he thinks I'm ordinary_."

"_Like it's all just temporary_," Sherlock sighed.

"_Like these toes are kind of hairy_." John pointed to a jar of toes in a strange purple liquid sitting on the counter by his tea kettle.

They both shrugged. "_But it's all very well 'cause God knows I'll never tell_!"

Sherlock crossed his arms. "_When things get rough, he just complains online. Now look, he's going to cry, 'cause he knows that I know_."

"_He clings, he's needy, he's also really greedy. He-_"

"_His blog is idiotic_."

John gave him an irritated glare. "_This is my verse, hello? He-_"

Sherlock began dancing, his long, pale limbs whirling around, making him seem like a life-size marionette. "Look, John, I'm dancing crazy!"

John joined in, matching the steps move for move.

"How do we even know the same dance?" Sherlock queried. "This is obviously-"

John turned to him with loving eyes, and the consulting detective fell silent. "_You know, you're quite the charmer_."

"_My knight in armor_," Sherlock sang, pulling John into an embrace.

"_Cuter than Scotland Yard, with your riding crop at Bart's, and your long and hard- tight embrace_!" John said, and they parted for a short dance break before slowly walking to opposite sides of the kitchen table.

"_He's swell_," Sherlock sang.

John smiled at him. "_He's sweller_."

"_He'll always be my fell...ow_."

John looked away. "_That's why I'll never tell him that I'm petrified_."

"_I've observed this tale- There's wedding then betrayal! I know there'll come the day I'll want to run and hide."_

They both climbed up onto the kitchen table, pushing aside the various beakers and vials on the surface, and crawled towards each other. "_I lied: I said it's easy. I've tried, but there's these fears I can't quell_."

Sitting back to back, John sang, _"Is he looking for a pot of gold_?"

Sherlock examined his slender body. "_Will I look good when I've gotten old?_"

"_Will our lives become too stressful if my blog's not that successful_?"

"_What if James Moriarty comes to crash our wedding party_?"

"_Am I crazy?"_

"_Am I defective?_"

"_Am I shagging a detective_?"

They came together, and John dipped Sherlock gracefully. "_We could really raise the beam in ending marriage with jail! So, thank God, I'll never tell._"

Slowly, they headed into the living room. "_I swear that I'll never tell_."

"_My lips are sealed_." John mimed zipping his lips. "_I'm tossing the key_."

"_Nothing to see, move it along_," Sherlock sang.

Together, they finished, "_I'll never tell!_" before falling into their respective armchairs and laughing heartily.

As the last strands of the song faded away, their smiles faded. John turned to Sherlock, scowling. "My penis does not have _diseases_!"

OOO

Safe in his office, Mycroft watched the ensuing argument, chucking, but turned off the screen when it devolved into make-up sex.

He turned to the demon trapped in the pentagon across from him. "They've been forced into honesty. They'll have to work things out from here on their own. Good work. You may go."

"What about my queen?" the demon demanded, throwing in a quick step-ball-change for effect.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't a suggestion."

The demon blanched. "All right, I'm leaving. But I'll give you one more song before I do." He snapped his fingers, becoming a wisp of smoke, and then vanished.

Anthea looked up from her Blackberry with a minute frown. "What does that mean, sir?"

Mycroft rose, picked up his umbrella, and spun it dramatically, turning to his assistant. "_I touch the fire and it freezes me. I look into it and it's black._"

Anthra stood up, approaching him and singing at the same time, "_My heart died so many years ago.._."

"_This isn't real_," Mycroft insisted.

"_But you can make me feel_," Anthea sang softly.

Mycroft wrapped his arms around her. "_But I just want to feel_."

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and then they broke apart to sing, "_Where do we go from here?_"

As the song's final crescendo faded, leaving the office in sudden silence, Mycroft cleared his throat. "Anthea?"

"Yes, sir?" she breathed, still in his arms.

"Make a note for me: Never summon demons again."

She nodded. "Very good, sir."


End file.
